


Of Dreams and Truth

by Glyphhunter



Category: Tales of Xillia 2
Genre: Crying, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, everybody's crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glyphhunter/pseuds/Glyphhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It ends up being a long night for the both of them.</p><p>Set after chapter 12</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dreams and Truth

“Ludger?”

His name drifts through the air, small and unassuming but it pulls at his subconscious until he’s staring at the shadows of the inn and wondering where it came from and why he’s awake. He almost dismisses it as a whisper of the dream he no longer remembers before he hears something else. A shift by the door, nearly just as unassuming. He turns his head from where he’s facing the rest of the men in their shared room to see who it is and blinks blearily in confusion.

The door is cracked open the bare minimum and Elle stands in the gap. One of her hands, he guesses is on the handle but he can see the other twisting and pulling at the end of her shirt. She’s staring resolutely at the ground with watery eyes and as soon as he realizes that, he’s immediately upright.

Elle jumps at the sound and the door slips open wider, gravity pulling it until it nearly rests against the wall. Light pours in from the hallway and she bites her lip as she stares at him with wide eyes. She’s clearly out of her depth, her plans never moving past attempting to wake Ludger. Ludger’s heart pounds and an odd taste enters his mouth as he realizes that Elle’s been at his door more than once and he’s never noticed. Not before tonight.

Never again, he determines silently as he gets out of bed and crosses the hardwood, Elle is his top priority and he can’t afford to be so negligent. It’s an afterthought that reminds him to shut the door, if only slightly so as to not disturb the rest of room.

In the hallway, he rests a hand on her shoulder as he kneels next to her and she looks stubbornly away as if getting Ludger’s help was entirely a favour to him. A smile tugs at his lips for a moment before he hides it and murmurs, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She seems to hesitate before she shakes her head but her arms come up in a clear request for comfort and Ludger is far from the frame of mind to refuse. He holds her close and she clutches tightly at his shirt and presses her face into his collar. It’s then that he realizes that she’s also shaking and after a moment of consideration, he comes to a conclusion. But first…

“Do you mind if I pick you up?” he asks and a second later, Elle nods against his shoulder.

“Sure,” she voices her assent and he smiles as he curls his arms under her legs and stands. Her knees clutch at his sides and she twists to the point that she’s almost perched on his hip so she can look forwards. He takes her down stairs and into the main lobby where the clerk looks at them curiously. He smiles somewhat sheepishly at the man and gestures with his head towards the doors of the kitchen.

The man nods back and shuffles to the side to lift the barricade in order for him to get through.  “Rough night?” he comments and Ludger shrugs though the movement is a bit aborted.

“A nightmare,” he says in explanation and the man nods and leaves him alone without another word. Ludger pushes through the kitchen door backwards and as soon as he’s a far enough distance away from it, Elle speaks.

“How did you know?” she murmurs into his ear and he looks to the ceiling as if it’s going to supply him with an answer, though he receives none. So he says the first thing that comes to mind.

“It was whispered to me in a dream,” he tells her. There’s a beat of silence as he approaches one of the tables closer to the stove and he pulls a chair out with a foot.

“You’re a liar, Ludger,” she states, sounding affronted, “you shouldn’t lie, that’s bad.” Ludger can’t stop the laugh that results though it doesn’t last longer than a second.

“Yes, you’re right,” he admits, “I’m sorry for lying.” He sets Elle down in front of the chair and while her face clearly says she doesn’t want to leave him, she doesn’t say anything about it.

“You’d better be,” she says instead and Ludger gives her a gentle smile and nods. Elle nods back then climbs onto the chair and starts swinging her legs once she’s settled. Ludger rests a hand on the top of her head for a moment before he turns towards the stove and quickly gets into the rhythm of cooking something for the both of them.

 He’s not sure when but at some point between the process of transferring the contents of one of the bowls into the pot and gathering the remaining spices, Elle appears at his side and he only notices when he goes for the one spice he left near the fridge.

“Elle?” He questions with his arms in the air, still in mid-reach. She doesn’t look at him but he sees that the tears she had managed to choke away earlier are back in full force. She stares at the reflective surface of the pot and Ludger knows he isn’t going to be finishing the soup within the next five minutes.

He reaches over the stove and turns the heat down low and it’s when he’s distracted that Elle finally speaks.

“Milla’s really gone, isn’t she?”

Ludger’s attention is immediately on her though she still isn’t looking at him. He sighs, knowing there’s an unspoken addition to the question and wishing silently that the truth is a lie and the red on his hands means something else. His hand clench at his sides and he resists the urge to head to the sink.

“Yes,” he whispers and suddenly there’s a tightness in his chest that he can’t identify and Elle is slowly curling until she’s crouched on the floor and pressing her face into her knees. She sobs as Ludger kneels next to her and she doesn’t resist when he wraps his arms around her and manoeuvres them both until they’re sitting against the counter cupboards.

Elle is trembling in his arms and he can feel her tears dampening the front of his shirt as she clutches at his sleeves. He runs a hand through her hair, down for the night until he puts it back up in the morning, and it provokes an unfiltered wail to echo through the kitchen. He doesn’t stop though. If anything, he holds her closer and allows her grief to finally come out in the open.

“I’m sorry,” he says and presses his cheek to the crown of her head. _I’m sorry I couldn’t help. I’m sorry I couldn’t save them. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

_Forgive me._


End file.
